


The Hunter and The Heiress

by Binaryfrog



Series: Past Lives [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, F/M, Interactive, Interactive Fiction, Other, Reader-Interactive, WWII, World War Two
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 03:33:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8234654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Binaryfrog/pseuds/Binaryfrog
Summary: You are the eldest daughter of a wealthy textile magnate, next in line to inherit the company and therefore its massive fortune. You eyes are opened to a new world through Dean Winchester and adventure begins.Excerpt:[Y]ou push the door open to the kitchen and walk over to the counter. A freshly cleaned glass sits waiting for you as you pass the sink. You pause momentarily to fill it with water. The cool liquid slips past you lips as you amble over to the pantry, opening the wooden door to see what there is to munch on. You furrow your brow as your search comes up emptier than you expected and you take a step further in to the cupboard, trying to get a closer look. Without warning you feel a sharp pain against your skull and your world is once again plunged in to darkness.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This series is currently on hiatus indefinitely, sorry for the inconvenience. I do not want to orphan it because I feel like I'll come back to it eventually, but right now I have no motivation to write it. Keep your hopes up! It may return sooner than you think.
> 
> The beginning of the third in my WWII AU series entitled Past Lives. I hope you enjoy. This is work is interactive so I would suggest downloading the chrome extension InteractiveFics.
> 
> -Binaryfrog

Something is chasing you but you can't perceive it. It melts into the shadows with ease, never fully revealing itself, keeping you guessing at its outline. A pair of eyes smirks out at you from the darkness. You are running at full speed, almost sending you ass over tea kettle in to... a rose bush? 

Your eyes fly open as you sit stark upright in bed. Chest heaving, you quickly look around your room for the invisible intruder, but find no one. Just shadows, that's all, nothing more. You put your head in your hands gently and massage your temples. You figure that you're already awake so you might as well get out of bed and have something to eat. That should put you right back to sleep. It usually does anyways.

Your room is soaked in moonlight, tinting everything a whispery silver. The hard wood floor is cold beneath your feet, and your bare legs get goose pimples as a slight draft blows through. You gingerly wrap your arms around yourself, trying to keep warm beneath a flimsy, baby blue, nightgown your grandmother had given you last year for Christmas; the thing was more pretty than it was functional, but you liked it all the same. Sliding out of bed, you pad across the room for your dressing gown, raising your arms and stretching as you go. You yawn loudly and scratch your side in a very unladylike fashion. The mirror next to the door captures your attention and you see something horrifying before you, something that never sees the light of day. Missed makeup is smeared down your face and gives you the appearance of a raccoon. Eyes half glazed with dark circles gaze at you tiredly. Your is hair precariously perched on top of your head in such a way that birds might like to live there. A small groan sneaks past your lips as you poke at yourself in the mirror. The thought of how much time it is going to take to fix this makes you cringe. Remembering your goal, you grab the thin robe from its perch on the corner of the mirror and bundle yourself up. You give yourself another quick once-over and head for the large ornate door that separates your room from the rest of the house. 

The door glides open and you find yourself in the hallway leading to the grand staircase. Portraits of old relatives, painted and otherwise, line the walls. They seemed to stare at you, echoing the same disapproving glare that your father would have given you had he caught you out and about. Thankfully everyone was safely tucked in bed, and even if they weren't, the mansion was so large they wouldn't be able to overhear you. You grin to yourself and saunter down the steps, announcing to the world that you couldn't care less if you were caught. You run your hand over the solid oak banister and grip it slightly. The banister has an inlaid vine like pattern made from ebony that continues down the railing and ends at the solid front post carved to resemble a tree with roots hanging over the last step. You always thought this addition to the old mansion was, although beautiful, unnecessary. You believed it was your mother's idea but couldn't be sure. After all both parents found pleasure in asserting their dominance through pretentious displays of wealth. Caught up in the thought of your parents 'my stick is bigger' habits, you stumble over the last step, stepping down hard on to the marble floor. The sound of your heel against the floor echoes and, forgetting your previous rationalization, you freeze solid, waiting for someone to appear from the shadows. After a few minutes of silence, you finally take a breath and continue around the side of the stairs, heading for the kitchen.

Walking the hidden hallways had always brought you child like glee, knowing you were somewhere you were never allowed to be.

“Y/N, you know these halls are reserved for the help!” your mother would whine petulantly, had she been awake to catch you. Giggling to yourself, you push the door open to the kitchen and walk over to the counter. A freshly cleaned glass sits waiting for you as you pass the sink. You pause momentarily to fill it with water. The cool liquid slips past your lips as you amble over to the pantry, opening the wooden door to see what there is to munch on. You furrow your brow as your search comes up emptier than you expected and you take a step further in to the cupboard, trying to get a closer look. Without warning you feel a sharp pain against your skull and your world is once again plunged in to darkness.

Your eyes flutter open, but slam back shut at the strong pain in your skull. You try to lift yourself up but your body is heavy, weighted down by something cold and bulky. Chains, your mind decides, you're chained to something. You try to move one hand and find you, thankfully, have at least some sort of range of motion. You again attempt to sit up right and use the wall for support as you cautiously open your eyes. As the blur coating your vision begins to fade, you take in your surroundings. Brick walls, hard floors you guess are concrete, dim lighting, if you had to guess you'd say you were in a sewer but you could be wrong. The foul smell that fills your nose confirms that suspicion. You check your wrists and see a pair of crude iron shackles, attached to the floor by heavy chains. A matching pair restrains your ankles.

The panic begins to set in. There's no way out of this one, you're stuck. Tears stream down your cheeks, in part from the throbbing in your head, as you realize there is no escape.

“I'm going to die here,” you whisper to yourself as you choke back a sob.

“Well... not necessarily...” a buttery voice coos from the darkness. A tall figure steps from the shadows, handsome and well groomed. His stark green eyes and pale skin are so stunning that you choke on a sob crawling up your throat and find yourself in complete silence, your mind suddenly calm. He stands looming and dark before you, hollow cheeks made more prominent by high cheek bones and a wide, cat like grin.

“Who are you?” you stammer, “What do you want, where am I?”

“Patience love,” he whispers, approaching you like wounded prey, “You'll find out soon enough.” He grins wide, showing his teeth. His pointed canines glint in the dim light and you shrink against the wall.

“You stay away from me! My father is a very powerful ma-”

“I don't much care who your father is,” the terrifying but godlike creature sneers. You shudder as he bends down to your level, his ice cold hand softly caressing your cheek, “I usually like to wait until my pets have calmed down, but I can see that you will be more of a challenge.” His teeth flash a startling white in the shadows, “Such a shame... but I'm afraid I can't wait any longer...” his eyes glint, “I'm famished.” His mouth flies open like a dog bearing his teeth at a squirrel who was foolish enough to wander in to his yard. You try to shrink further in to the wall and cover your face as he lunges, but the chains hold your wrists firmly. You open your mouth to scream.

“Hey freak!”

The looming figure in front of you swerves with a hiss, accidentally smacking you, before a loud bang rings out against the brick. Cool, viscous liquid splatters against your face and neck; you refuse to name it. The figure falls to his knees and then slumps forward, a pool of semi congealed blood forming beneath him. You swallow hard and softly close your eyes, trying to hold down the glass of water you had earlier in the night.

“Hey, you ok?” 

You open your eyes to view the source of the gravelly voice standing before you. Hazel eyes stare down at you behind a slightly concerned, but masculine, expression. His hair is cropped short and his button-up shirt gives special attention to his physique; he's strong and toned but not huge. For a moment you lose yourself in him, but snap back to reality as something warm trickles down your face. 

You close your eyes and swallow in a second attempt to keep it together, “Yes, for all intents and purposes I am ok.” He stares down at you before crouching down over the dead body, fishing through pockets for keys. Something jingles and you feel the weight of the cold chains slip away. You open your eyes and totter to your feet, the realization dawning on you how indecent you must seem. You quickly cover your chest with one arm and blush, embarrassed at being seen in a night gown.

The strange man chuckles momentarily before grabbing your arm to stabilize you before you fall to your knees from the shock of the nights events. 

“Where's home?” he inquires of you, his voice turned gentle. You tell him and he leads you down a tunnel and out of the sewer, not letting go of you in case you fell. The street lights are a welcome sight and the noise from the bar across the street fills your being and reminds you that the nightmare is over. You take a deep breath and gently wiggle your arm out of his grasp, deciding that you can walk alone.

“What was that?” you breathe, your voice trembling from the adrenaline surging through your veins, “What did it want? And who are you?” The questions sprout from your mouth in rapid succession, your mind finally catching up with your body.

“Well let's start with the easy answer, I'm Dean,” he doesn't offer a hand to shake but continues to walk, “That was a vampire, and it wanted to eat you,” he definitely is not one to sugar coat anything, “But I've never d of one pulling a person out of their home, you must be something special.” As your mind slows and tries to absorb the information presented to you, you can take in the small details of him. Blue collar, slightly grubby, definitely lower class, but what can you say, you're in a night gown.

“Now it's my turn to ask a question,” he says, his face growing serious, “Who are you?”

You cringe, “ Y/N, I'm the heiress to the Montgomery fortune and textile company.” He physically perks at the mention of money, but says nothing. The two of you walk in silence down the road passing under street light after street light, your bare feet hitting rough concrete. No words are exchanged until you arrive at the manor, a building that leaves people in awe when they pass. Ivy climbs up the walls and what seems like one hundred windows stares out at the street. Two pillars frame the large double doors that serve as a portal in to the sizable house. 

You turn to Dean, “Thank you, thank you for saving my life,” you hesitate, “Give me a day, and I will give you a reward.” You fail to mention that you would have to steal it from your father, but he won't miss it, “There's a diner down town that I like to visit. Meet me there tomorrow night and we'll get things settled... and you'll explain this to me,” he cocks an eyebrow in a way that tells you he doubts you can handle it, “Everything,” you respond. 

He nods politely as you explain the location of the small restaurant, “Tomorrow then,” he bows his head slightly as he backs away. He looks back over his shoulder as he turns on his heel, “See you, Y/N”


End file.
